enough for the accommodation of the family, and then the mouth of the bell is divided into two equal parts by a strong band woven across it. This is a critical stage in the progress of the work. For now the birds can sit on the cross-band and judge how the nest swings. If it is' badly balanced, they bring lumps of clay and stick them on one side or the other till the defect is remedied. At least this is Jerdon's explanation of the curious patches of clay which are generally found inside of Weaver Birds' nests. The native theory is that they are wall brackets, in which fireflies are stuck for the illumination of the nest. This is one of those things which one cannot help washing were true. The scientific spirit which we of this century worship, with its relentless demand for whole burnt offerings of sentiment and oblations of proof, is a spirit of a dry wind, withering the garden of the soul. But nobody really knows, except the Weaver Bird itself, why those lumps of clay are stuck on the walls of the nest. One thing certain is that, for some reason or other, the birds often get dissatisfied with the nest at this stage, and give it up and begin another. In every colony of nests there are several of these bells with a band across the mouth. In them the cock-birds will sit in rainy weather, each chattering to his spouse as she broods on her eggs. But if the nest, when it has reached that stage, pleases them, they proceed to finish it. The hen sits on the cross-band while her mate fetches fibres. He pushes them through to her from the outside and she returns them to him. So they weave, closing up the bell on one side of the cross-band so as to form a little hollow for the eggs, and prolonging the other
